


Much a Dew About Nothing

by Acrazia



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Basically this is just an explanation for why nothing changes year after year in the game, Because of the time loop, Breathplay, Drug Use, Explicit chapters are marked if you'd rather skip them, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderfluid Character, Injury, Light BDSM, M/M, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Mild Smut, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Non-binary character, Other, Time Loop, Unreliable Narrator, actually it's pretty linear in that a season follows another season
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-04-07 15:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acrazia/pseuds/Acrazia
Summary: A barely functional human inherits a run-down farm in the mountains. They expect it to be nothing but the run-of-the-mill "adjusting to new surroundings," "getting to know the locals," and "honing your craft" kind of plot.How wrong the dear farmer is.





	1. Chapter 1

Lore had no internet.

Guess that was one way to encourage sleep.

But no. Rather than encourage sleep, it just ticked them off. They were of the 'night owl' profession, which meant sleep was not going to come just because it was dark out and they couldn't even google up some comforting porn.

Or google the growing period of a fucking parsnip.

It just reminded them that they needed to read up on farming techniques. Botany major or no, actually getting a plant to survive took more than knowing its genus. They weren't even sure if farming was a viable job for them, but a few extra veggies would be nice. They needed to find something to do with all this land if they weren't going to farm it. 

There was a library in this town, thank goodness. They'd probably have some decent books on growing crops, given the surrounding area. Maybe give them some ideas for other work they could do.

Maybe they could build a cabin on the property and rent it out to rich yuppies looking for some rural tourism.

There was a TV show on the public broadcast channel that helped out with growing tips. But it was, let's say, not made for accelerated learners. It took an entire half hour program for the man to fully explain putting a damn seed in the ground.

Informative? Sure.

But if that was the only way Lore was to inject knowledge in their head, they'd off themself tonight, just to avoid the slow, crushing death that would surely come from such mind-numbing boredom.

The night freaked them out, honestly, but they would never admit that to another soul.

There was just something so black about the nights here. So still. So quiet.

Sure, the city had it's share of horrors, but at least they made noises.

They stood on their porch, breath making little clouds of condensation, staring into the abyss. Fucking daring it to move.

And then it _did._

A shape darted past their head, shrieking all the way.

_Bats._

Once they had dived back inside, gaining several splinters in unspeakable places, and calmed down, they giggled, "Son of a bitch," perhaps from the shock, but it was funny.

They were such a city-kid. A tiny flying rodent scared them. Back in the city, they had nonchalantly scooched along rats with the toe of their boot, so they could step on the train. Rats were everywhere. It was _normal._

But, in the city's defense, their rodents didn't fly.

After that fiasco, they tried to sleep. It was only one in the morning, but there was nothing more to do. They picked their way around the stacks of boxes their life had been packed into and crawled into the dilapidated bed. Not great, but they'd slept on worse. The smell was distracting, so they shoved their face into their own pillow, taking some comfort with one familiar thing.

The fire died down to glowing embers, and still, they could not sleep. The darkness out the window drew their eyes to it, watching it. Daring it to try moving on the cabin.

Or, rather, _terrified_ of it moving in on the cabin.

The place was falling apart. A bat would have a shot at knocking the door in.

They waited for sleep.

Anxious.

Hour after hour.

_Just go to sleep._

Trembling.

_Was it a mistake to come here?_

They waited until morning.

With the sunlight beginning to shine in through the window, and the robins started chirping their morning tunes, a weight lifted from their exhausted mind, and finally allowed them to sleep.

☆☆☆

It was noon by the time they woke up, sunlight streaming in through the one window that wasn't boarded up.

They stretched, the pain of a crap mattress and nightmare physical labor wrecking her back in a demented tag team. Still, better than the pain of sitting at a desk for years on end. They weren't going to be much use today. Overdid it with the cleaning yesterday.

They got the fire going again, not too much, but enough to heat up a little saucepan of oatmeal. 

She meditated on their bland raisin oatmeal, eating straight from the pan, turning on the TV for noise but ignoring the horoscope reader. _How'd this broad get_ _ **such**_ _a large chunk of air-time, anyway?_

_Wonder how Jeff's doing... Will he remember to pay rent today without me? Will he remember to take out the trash tomorrow?_

She snapped to the moment again as a loud commercial began advertising a nearby casino. They turned the TV off. 

_It's not my problem anymore._

The fire took wood, wood they had been stacking fiercely last night, but they'd already used up so much. They would have to either keep the fire low, or get some thicker pieces of wood. Logs. They'd have to clear away some of these trees soon enough, anyway.

_I have to cancel my phone plan if it doesn't work out here. Where will I do laundry? Ah, shit, I have to call my GP and find the nearest pharmacy._

Their back yelled at them in protest, demanded a union, higher wages.

Not today. Today, they would water their meager vegetable garden (putting 'sprinklers' and 'hose' on that to-buy list), and hike to the library. Maybe clean out the cupboards a little more, unpack, ask around for internet providers. Then cloister themself away with a stack of books and read until the sun came up again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Lewis stepped into the sunshine of another beautiful spring morning in his beloved Pelican Town. It had been a long long time since he noticed the sun and basked in it. But, this new farmer, the granddaughter of Old Asher Stardew himself, might just be the ticket this town needed to pull itself up from the bootstraps.

Though the child was quiet and not much for talking, she seemed stoic rather than shy, and she seemed to exude an energy like the air before a big storm hit. This kid, she had big plans. He couldn't wait to see them.

He took a long, slow, looping walk around the park, feeling his mood drop again at the sight of the dry fountain and the crumbling community center. It used to be the pride and joy of the whole valley. They had after school programs for the children, a town hall, book clubs, garden clubs, and the occasional cooking class, back when Evelyn was more spry.

But now, look at it. The roof was falling in. A small tree had sprouted in the gutter. Windows were busted out and boarded over. Abandoned.

The guilt dragged at his throat. _He_ abandoned it. The town couldn't pay for renovations for one year, money had been tight when the war broke out. And then the next year, and the next.

Ash had been this town's good luck charm, but ever since he'd moved away, things had been falling apart. The community center. The fountain. The mines. The people.

Maybe Ash's grandkid could be their new good luck charm. It was the only hope he had left.

"Speak of the devil..." He muttered as the child in question race-walked towards the mountain from the town center.

“Hello, there!” He hailed her, setting aside his self-pity for the moment, instead, breaking out his jovial mayor schtick.

She stopped at his words, dead in her tracks, and said stiffly, “Good morning.” He walked closer so he didn't have to yell. He once again was struck by how _tall_ she was, for a woman, a head taller than even he was. Then again, Ash was a giant of a man, so it must run in the family.

“How was your first night in that old shack?” He asked.

She shrugged, looked away, her long bangs covering her face. He blew out some air, bothered. This newer generation, why did they insist on having their hair cover their face? Just like Robin's boy, how could they see anything with that curtain in front of their eyes? For a moment, he thought she might be trying to cover up her nose- the thing was huge!- another family trait from Ash. Or maybe trying to hide her heavy eye bags, the gauntness in her cheeks, likely from too many days spent hunched over a desk in artificial light.

He told himself to not think that way; she was a handsome enough child. Handsomer than he was, these days. Lewis could never understand this new generation, though, and their excessive need to tattoo and pierce every nook and cranny. Her neck was darkened with an image he hadn't made out, half of it hidden under her collar.

“Ah, look at this place.” He said, turning back to the community center. She turned and stared at it with him, but didn't look interested. He wanted to go inspect it, but didn't want to seem like some old codger who couldn't turn away from the past. “Used to be packed, every day. People would come from all over to visit. Not just Pelican Town, all of Stardew Valley. What an eyesore. It's a mess now, but would you like to see inside?”

Her lips tightened, but she nodded.

He unlocked the door, although the wood had started cracking apart and splintering at the hinges- it was hardly worth keeping locked- and they entered.

It was just as bad inside as it was from the outside. The floorboards were rotting, cines crawling through the soft wood. The ceiling had small streams of sunlight shining through, dust motes floating in the beams. It was darker than it should have been, but all the boarded up windows gave no light.

“What a mess.” Was all he could manage without tearing up.

She wandered around, looking at the little seating area, the bookshelf, the books that had been abandoned there tattered and worn from the elements.

“What's this?” She asked, crossing to the small... branch igloo? Hut?

“Oh, the children must have snuck in here and built that.” He guffawed, “At least someone's getting some use out of this place.”

She inspected the hut closely, brow furrowed, but she must have been listening.

“Joja Mart has been pressuring me into selling them this place, so they could build a warehouse out of it.” _That_ got her attention, whipping her head around to stare at him so quickly her neck cracked.

“I know, I know. I can't seem to let this place go, but the town could sure use the money.” He said. Wait, was she staring _at_ him or _through_ him? He turned around, puzzled, but he couldn't see anything. “What was it, a rat? I can believe it. I'm amazed there aren't squirrels living here.” He sighed. “Ah well. If even one more person buys a Joja Mart membership, I'll just sell it to them.”

He turned, as if to walk out, but hesitated. He turned back, and beckoned her over.

“But, if you want to use this place for something...” He said, dropping the small bronze key into her hand, “You may.”

She looked shocked and he could imagine. Just moving into a town and getting a key directly from the mayor the next day to community property! She must feel pretty special now, maybe enough to get some interest going in this old place again.

He stepped back out into the sunlight, the bright rays warming his thoughts once more.

This was going to go well.

He just knew it.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 Maru had just flipped the sign around on the clinic door to “OPEN,” when a big, brunet stranger barged in.

“I need to see the doctor. Now.” He said, each word strained, fists white at his sides.

“Um, good morning?” _Rude._ “You need to fill out the intake forms before- _hey!_ ” He passed by her and her outstretched clipboard, and went straight through to the back of the clinic.

Maru rushed out back, finding the doctor standing. “Maru, what is it, I heard-” Harvey began to ask, as the strange man entered his office through the side door.

“Need you.” The stranger said with a vicious look in their eyes.

“You need to-” Maru started reprimanding him, but Harvey held up a hand to her, his brow furrowed towards the person.

“Are you alright?” Harvey asked.

“No.” The man said, his face screwing up, morphing from angry to terrified. “I need a refill of my meds.”

“Maru, is it alright if you give us a moment?" Harvey asked, approaching the new patient cautiously.

"Doctor Harvey, are you sure-"

"Maru." She stopped her protests. Despite the size difference, Harvey looked to be in control of the situation.

"Yes, Doctor." She said in defeat, retreating back to the front.

 

\----------------

 

The impromptu appointment took far too long. Evelyn's appointment was not long after the stranger walked in, and for the first time in the few months she'd been working for Harvey, she had to ask Evelyn to wait. Of course, sweet old Evelyn took it in stride, and settled down with an ancient Gardening magazine.

Harvey bustled out with the patient- looking markedly calmer- handing a folder over to Maru. She felt her face tighten looking the paperwork over. The doctor had better things to do than to personally fill out intake forms for a patient.

"Maru, can you call in this order and fill it for Lore? They've already agreed to wait for it." Before she had a chance to respond, he turned to Evelyn, "Evelyn! Sorry about the wait! Let's get you out back, okay?"

"Oh my, it was no trouble at all." Evelyn said, rocking in her seat to stand up and then slowly making her way into the back of the clinic with Harvey.

Lore sat down in the chair directly in front of Maru, and steepled their fingers, glaring hard at a poster about preventing airborne diseases.

Lorelei Stardew, the forms said.

"Stardew?" The person snapped his head around at her. "Oh! Sorry, no, I- I was just wondering, if you're related to the namesake of the valley?"

Lore took a moment, but said, "As far as I know, yeah."

"Wow, cool!" Maru said. Lore just leaned back and stared straight ahead, dead-eyed.

Geez, rude. Maru called into the patient's previous healthcare provider, a free clinic in the middle of the city, and the rep on the line said they'd get the orders in in a few minutes.

"Hey, um..." Her eyes rested on the tall stranger again. "I'm sorry f-for bein' rude earlier."

"Oh, it's no trouble."

And between that exchange and the medication order being filled, they didn't say another word to each other.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

The next day was take two for the library. Lore had seen the roof of the community center from the main street and thought _that_ place was the library. It had a playground next to it, just like the library they'd frequented in the city.

But now they knew better, and had a magic protection potion imbued in their veins against monsters, so she left her cabin in higher hopes than they were in last night.

She had mail.

Probably junk. They hadn't even changed their address with the post office. Had considered not doing it at all, just in case a certain asshat decided to track them down. They pulled it out anyway.

The letter was in a blue envelope.

_Garish._

Joja Corp was really starting to go all-out with their advertising, weren't they?

But it didn't have any post markings on it, not even a stamp. Just "Lore Stardew."

 _Maybe one of the townsfolk being friendly_ , they thought, unfolding it, _inviting them over for a potluck or welcome party or-_

They read it.

And _once again_ , felt their fucking world drop into their feet.

Breath in.

Breath out.

_Breath in._

_Breath out._

_In, out, in, out, in, in, in-_

" _Shiiit._ " They hissed folding into a ball, hyperventilating. Weren't the meds working yet? Why was it taking so long? Maybe the new doctor gave her the wrong dosage, or maybe it was pretty close, but not exactly the medication they'd used in the past.

She had known it was a bad idea to just stop the anti-psychotics cold-turkey, but they ran out during the week leading up to moving to this god-forsaken rathole and they forgot to get a refill. Now she was having new hallucinations.

Usually, the sight hallucinations were always just monsters. Or spirits. Staring at her, inspecting her. At the subway station, perched on top of the ticket stations. Down a long, dark hall in their old apartment complex. When they'd heard that granpa died, he spent days walking with her, talking to her, realer than anyone else in the room. Telling her how much he would miss her when he left. Asking them to take care of granma. How he would always be there for them, if only in spirit.

A sense of calm filled their stomach when they thought of grandpa. Almost like he was there, pulling her from the depths of a panic attack back into normal life. It was jarring, to say the least, but she couldn't help but feel grateful. Granpa was always doing his best, trying to do right by her, even when she deserved none of that recognition. He was the reason they were here now, surrounded by trees and bright sunny skies instead of their blue-toned cubicle hell.

"Thank you." She felt urged to say out loud.

Nothing answered back, thank goodness.

They had to go back inside to blow their nose, dry her face, but then she set right back out for the library, feeling boneless and numb. The letter from the ' _wizard'_ went straight into the embers. If it was actually a bill or something, they would get a second notice.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Penny gazed longingly outside, wishing she could be reading out there in the cool spring air. But instead, she was inside the musty old library once again, as she was, day after day, trying to get the kids educated.

It was terrible that they couldn't go to a normal school. They should be in groups of children their age, learning from many different teachers, getting socialized properly.

She blamed her mother. If she hadn't gone for a drunken joy ride with the Pelican Town bus, they'd still be able to get bussed over to the Hillside Central School District. Penny would have had the free time and the transportation necessary to go into the city and look for a real job, that paid her minimum wage, with taxes and a retirement plan.

Her mother ruined a lot of things for this town that night. It was hard not to stay mad at her.

But that was two years ago. The mayor had yet to get the bus fixed, or purchase another one. It didn't have to be anything fancy, it just had to move. He failed to do that, so it wasn't just her mother's fault any longer.

For the time being, she was trapped. Trapped with a job that she was underqualified for that paid too little and no near-term prospects of escape. The only thing she had was her little stash of savings, squirreled away, little by little, that she'd somehow hidden from her mother's prying eye.

It wasn't going well, and it wasn't going fast. But at least it was _going._

"Miss Penny!" Vincent asked, pointing to the book they were reading, "What is this word?"

"Premonition." Penny read, confused. That was an awfully big word in a book that was apparently meant for seven-year-olds.

"What's a premonition?" Jas asked.

Penny had one, right then. The scene played in her head, seconds before they occurred.

She brushed her fingertips against the wood grain of the table, trying to bring herself back to reality.

"It means to have a vision of the future." She mimicked her déjà-vu, looking to the door as it clicked open, behind a stack of books that obscured it from their table. Sunlight streamed in, then faded, with another quiet click of the door latching.

"So, like, the mindreader at the autumn fair?" Vincent asked. A tall figure cast a shadow through the shelves as they stalked past, and Gunther greeted them.

"Yes, like her, but Welwick isn't a mindreader. She's an oracle."

"So then what's a mindreader?" Jas asked.

"Someone who can tell what you're thinking about without telling them."

"My mom's a mindreader." Vincent said. "She always knows what I'm thinking about, and I never know how."

Penny giggled, distracted for a moment from the ominous feeling in her gut. Déjà-vu was never a thing that occurred to her unless it was of consequence. It hadn't lasted for so long since the last time she saw her father.

"Oh, Vincent." She sighed, "I think your mom just knows you really well."

Two sets of foot steps strode down the shelves behind them, Gunther softly speaking about the museum.

"Pre-mo-ni-tion." Jas said, counting syllables.

"That's a pretty difficult word, children." Penny said, "You don't have to learn that one for the quiz."

Vincent breathed a sigh of relief, while Jas wrote it down in her vocabulary list all the same.

"So, Jas, can you please read now? Start with the sentence, 'He had a premonition of this.'"

"He had a premonition of-"

"Excuse me," Gunther said, coming back around the bookcase. "Have you met the new resident?" The said resident followed him into Penny's view, tall, nearly six foot, short hair half dyed blue that covered half of her face, with a sturdy build, dressed in a reddish long-sleeve flannel and heavy jeans, black boots. A tattoo she couldn't quite make out sat on her neck like a choker.

"Name's Lore." She said, nodding in greeting.

"I'm Penny. And this is Vincent and Jas."

"Nice to meet you."

"Hey, are you the one that owns the old Dewdrop farm now!?" Vincent asked, excited. The farmer looked uncomfortable at his enthusiasm. "My mom said she was excited to have a farm nearby!"

"Are you going to have chickens?" Penny was startled when Jas spoke up quietly, "Aunt Marnie sells chickens at our ranch."

"Ah... yes... maybe soon." Lore said, waving offhandedly, turning back to Gunther. They left for the front desk again, involved in a conversation that did not involve her or the children. 

"Well, then..." Penny said, trying to get the kids to focus again. If only she could focus herself. The premonition left an itch in her mind she could not scratch.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Lore exited the library, weighed down with books and knowledge after listening to Gunther. He'd asked if they found anything antique or fancy in the dirt on the farm, if they'd be willing to donate it to the museum, considering the last curator took everything when he left for the city. She thought on it, and decided for the most part, she'd give him anything he wanted. Most of what they found on the farm couldn't possibly be worth very much to anyone but a museum. Maybe he'd be willing to take their old roof once that was replaced, they thought, smiling, because that shit's so old, it _belongs_ in a museum. 

She was about to cross back over to the other side of the river, when a building behind the library caught her eye.

"Blacksmith?" They mumbled, curiosity piqued, changing direction from the bridge. What year was it that they had a genuine metal worker forming metal by hand, rather than ordering one of the mass-produced, machine-welded whatever you needed.

"Hello?" They asked, poking their head in the door.

A loud CLANG rang out through the building. The blacksmith swore, turning around, wiping his hands off on a towel hanging off his belt, said, "Morning, what can I- Lori?"

Lore stared at the blacksmith, letting the door swing shut behind them. "Clint?"

"God, Lori, how are you!?" Clint said, grinning wide, going in for a hug but stopping, looking down at his apron. "I'm uh- gross right now or I'd-" He was cut off by Lore pulling him roughly into a hug and crushing the air out of him.

"I'm the new farmer 'round here, so I'm gettin' used to bein' gross!" She crowed.

Clint laughed, horrified. "Shit, no! You moved  _here!?_ Why, in god's name, would you move out  _here!?_ "

"You know tha abandoned farm to the west? Fuckin' granpa left the deed to me without ever tellin' anyone about it!"

"God! Aunt Jenny and the kids moving out here, too?" He asked, his grin looking more like a snarl at the mention of her step-mother.

"Like hell! No! No way!" Lore said, punching his shoulder in mock outrage. "She'da sold tha place off years ago if she knew about it!"

"Thank Yoba!" Clint breathed in relief, "I don't mean any disrespect to your mom-"

"Disrespect her!" Lore laughed cruelly. "She's an absolute  _bitch_ \- dunno know what my dad ever saw in her."

"How's the farm held up- can I visit sometime?" Clint asked, taking his leather apron off and hanging it on a peg behind his front desk, "Give me a tour!"

"Ugh!" Lore said, slamming her forehead onto the desk. "No! God! It looks like everythin' fell apart in tha past decade! Tha ceilin's more hole than wood, tha freakin' pipes leak, the windows are all busted out,  _somethin's_ wrong with tha chimney- I dunno- the  _flue or some shit_ , it's stuck and some of tha smoke stays in tha house." She sighed, "It might be cheaper to just tear tha place down and start from scratch." 

"You meet the carpenter yet?" Clint asked.

"The hot red-head? Sure did."

"Ugh! Keep it in your pants! She'd be able to tell you if it was salvagable or not."

"She said tha place looked like trash." Lore said, glumly, pouting.

Clint frowned. "Shit."

She sprang up, shouted, "UGH! What tha fuck!? There's like, grease or some shit on your desk!" She scrubbed at her face, a huge dark splotch on her cheek.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes." Clint said, offering a clean towel.

"Oh my god, it's fuckin'  _sticky!_ " She whined, snatching the towel and scrubbing.

"I thought you were getting used to being gross." He teased.

She snarled at him. "Yeah, in like, dirt, not in like, oil! This is  _foul!_ Is it off yet?" Her face was still covered in the stuff, and had only succeeded in pushing it around with the towel. 

"Eh, that's not working, there's soap in the bathroom that should eat that off in a jiffy."

"It better!" She grumbled at him, following him to the bathroom and coating her face in the grease-eating soap.

"Maybe Robin was joking. You should ask her if there's any chance of reconstruction, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah." Lore said, touching her face and wincing. Clean enough. "I have a million things to look into. Like, Lewis said a lot other other day but he didn't say anythin' important, ya know? Like, when's garbage day? Ya'll have to pay for tags or nah? Where's the recycling go? What kind of changes am I allowed to make to tha building, like on and on." She sighed, "I guess I hafta go ask."

"Well, you just put the garbage out front, and Lewis collects it in the mornings on Wednesdays." Clint said. "We don't pay for it, it comes out of our taxes. And we don't recycle, you just toss everything."

Lore blinked hard, "You what now?"

"Don't recycle." Clint confirmed, "I know, I know, we have people bringing it up at the town meetings every year, but the town's fucked, Lore, they haven't even got the cash to fix the bus, how do you think they'd be able to start recycling?"

"This place is a nightmare." Lore muttered low, eyes tightening. "I gotta get going. Good to see you again, Clint."

"Yeah, yeah, same. I'll visit sometime."

Lore left.

Clint debated going back to work on those pipe fittings, but a different thought won out in his brain. He dug around in his desk, finding the schematics he needed and got to work.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a rough day, for sure. The kind of day where nothing went right and everything one did was wrong and shit, and maybe would have been better off staying in bed. 

It was, alas, a cranberry and vodka night.

Lore fumbled at the fridge, only to hear a clatter. It took a moment to realize he'd knocked one of Grandpa's magnets off.

"Oh, oh," Lore fretted, squatting to locate the lost treasure. "Granpa, I'm so sorry," he said, finally locating the pink fairy between the broom and the step stool. He wobbled as he stood, still unaccustomed to being on his feet all day and also maybe the alcohol had a hand in the wobblies.

But he gingerly placed the fairy back onto the fridge, reading the little inscription despite his intoxication, "Have a little love in your heart." 

He collapsed backwards, sobbing, taking a moment to burp acid. 

"Granpa!" He cried into his hands, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- I'm just- I don't know what I'm doing here!" He bawled. "I was good at my j-job at Joja, and I could p-pretend to love Jeff as long as he pretended to love me!"

Lore's consciousness faded into the night, but was sure there was a dream involving his granpa saying it was okay to be unsure. 

And when he woke up on the floor, groggy and unable to remember last night, well, that was normal.


	8. Chapter 8

Penny was just getting ready for bed, when a loud knock sounded throughout the trailer. "At this hour?"

She muttered, rising to answer the door. She didn't have to wonder for long, as the familiar brash voice of her (completely inebriated) mother called out, "PENNY!"

"Mom?" Penny asked, opening the door. "Oh, good evening, Shane." 

"Hey, Penny." He slurred, hauling her mother in bodily, and letting her collapse on the couch like a ragdoll.

"Really?" Penny asked, disbelieving, but not surprised, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, so..." Shane paused, gathering his thoughts, as Penny wondered if they had any idea how horrible they looked when they drink _this_ much. "It's Pam's birthday, and that new farmer, they bought a bunch of rounds. It was awesome." 

"Nice of them." Penny said, seething underneath her cool exterior. 

"It was, it was." He said, stumbling on the threshold, "Well, night, Penny!"

She shut the door behind him, wanting to slam it.

"Pe-pen-" Her mother began.

"I'm going to bed." Penny stated, her face hard, "Get some rest, mom." 

"Nooo, waaait!" Pam wailed. Penny stopped. "Can youu- hic, get me, some water?" Penny inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, willing herself not to cry in front of her mother. She wanted to scream. She wanted to stomp, but instead she schooled her feet to walk normally to the sink. 

"Here." She said, offering it to her mother. Pam struggled to get upright and when she did, wobbly attempted to grab the glass from her daughter's hand, but missed entirely, her entire body following her arm's trajectory to the ground between the coffee table and couch. 

"Uuuogh." Pam said, trying to raise herself up, managing to get to her hands and knees. "Oh, that-" She interrupted herself by throwing up. 

Penny closed her eyes once more, but couldn't stop her tears from escaping this time. "Oh, mom." She sighed, shakily, putting the water down out of the way and moving the coffee table out. 

It was something she hated doing, but needed to do when her mom came home like this. She helped her mother up onto the couch, and went for a wet cloth to wipe her mother down. She picked out a loose shirt from beneath the bunkette (an improvised closet space) and returned to Pam. She was glad her mom was unresponsive enough to keep her eyes closed and didn't talk, but enough that she could lean forward to remove the soiled shirt and help getting the clean one on. Penny got a pillow and a blanket from under the couch, and tucked her mother into bed. She sat on the end of the couch, tired, staring at the vomit on the floor, playing with the idea of just leaving it there for Pam to step in in the morning.

She sighed, and grabbed a basin, and filled it with water. She looked for the paper towels, only to realize they were out. She inhaled, trying to keep her composure, then went for toilet paper. They were low. 

"Really?" She asked the air. No answer, of course. 

She weighed her options, then hauled out the trash bin along with the basin and a washcloth. She gagged as she scooped up as much of the chunky bits as she could, dumping them in the trash can. The smell was ghastly. She had to stop once to lean out the open door, breathing in deep the cool night air. She could hear crickets. She steeled herself and returned to her task, scrubbing the floor clean, dumping the basin, throwing the washcloth into the overflowing dirty laundry hamper, and hauling the stinking garbage outside. She pushed the coffee table back into place and gently put the glass of water within her mom's reach. 

It must have been two in the morning when she finally flopped into bed, exhausted. She hoped she wasn't forgetting anything. Her eyes shot back open, remembering one more thing she had to do. She got out of bed and reached to the top of her shelf, where a little present was hidden, with a vase of dandelions. She brought them out to the living room and placed them on the table beside the glass of water. 

"Happy birthday, mom." She said, wearily, and went to bed. 


	9. Chapter 9

Lore still hadn't cleaned properly as spring neared it's end, being too busy trying to make a quick buck.

Luckily a few of the townsfolk had random odd jobs that needed running, and there was no limit to the amount of fish one could take, and no license needed to fish, and the forest was _apparently_ ownerless, so he could forage all he wanted for berries and other edibles. That one flower child that lived in the woods showed him a few of the things she gathered to make salads when he ran into her a week back, and he could look the plants up online.

All in all, the food situation could have been much much worse.

But that meant he spent all day out of the house, not having to deal with his mess, and then at night he drank to get to sleep, so he was never super aware of the mess then, either. The only times it became a problem was when he needed a plate and there weren't any clean ones, or if he _knew_ he had a thing he needed already, it was just in one of these boxes.

 _Somewhere_.

His clean laundry pile was very close to being engulfed in his dirty laundry pile, and he'd tripped over  _something_ a few nights ago and smacked the everloving crap out of his head on the bed frame. The knot on his forehead was shaped like the corner of the frame and firm to the touch, and he hoped he didn't fracture his skull, but a doctor visit would be more than he could afford. He lacked raccoon eyes or Battle signs, so he guessed it was just a concussion. 

But that was the final straw. He needed to clean, like last week.

That, and he was getting dizzy spells and he really just preferred to pass out inside his home instead of out in the woods somewhere. He used to be a Joja medic; he knew what it cost if they found you. 

He'd just decided to move all of the boxes to the porch instead of trying to clean around them. He had a towel set up on the floor to dry out the pile of pans and pots that he couldn't fit in the drainer. As soon as he found his coin jar, he'd take out the bundle of dirty clothes to the laundromat/bath house deal in the mountains. Marnie was a sweet woman, offered use of her washing machine before, but, eh. It felt wrong to use her things when it suited him, then never visit her. 

And so it went, all morning, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, a little bit of vodka on the side to kill the headache a bit, a bit of bombastic music playing to keep his mood up.

The music was the reason he didn't hear the knock on the screen door, but he did hear the, "Are you moving!?" screamed at him from his porch. 

"Clint!" He said, dropping the broom and kicking the vodka bottle under the bed, hoping Clint wouldn't notice it, then opening the door. "Nah, I ain't movin, but I gotta clean somehow." 

"What? You haven't unpacked yet?" Clint asked, shocked at the bare home behind Lore. He noticed Lore's face a moment later. "What the hell happened to your  _face!?"_

Lore shrugged. "Fell, bumped my head. Don't look so upset, man." He insisted as Clint examined him. 

"That doesn't look good! Have you seen Harvey yet?"

"What!? No, I can't afford a doctor visit right now!" Lore said, turning into the house to continue his cleaning. 

"You could be really hurt!" Clint insisted. "I'll take you there-"

"SHUT UP!" Lore yelled. 

Silence.

Lore sighed, realizing his mistake. "Hey, I'm sorry for yelling, but... I don't have steady work yet here, and I don't exactly have any savings. I'm kinda just making enough to eat and keep the lights on. I know I  _should_ see a doctor, but I'd rather eat." Lore glanced at Clint, who looked distressed. He looked away quickly, beginning to tear up as he faced up to how bad his situatuion really was. "You know?" 

"Hey, no." Lore felt him approach, then was engulfed in his big, warm, accepting arms, "You're like my favorite cousin, and if you ever need food, come to me. I will never let you starve." He paused, then continued in a lighter tone. "Even if you never do get your shit together." 

Lore chuckled, grateful for the levity, and patted his arm. "Thanks, man. I know I'm kinda a fuck-up, but I'll get my act together soon. It's just a lot right now. So many things changed in such a short time..." 

Clint considered his next words, before letting go of Lore and asking carefully, "Were you and Ethan close?" 

_Ethan. Baby brother. Giggling at a cartoon. Screaming with glee as they played Airplane. Hospital. Meltdowns. Holding him down as doctors gave him shots and pills. Weakening. None of the medicine worked. His thin corpse looking more alive in the coffin than he had during those last days, Jenny sobbing uncontrollably._

_And now he's gone._

He took a big, deliberate inhale. "Yeah." 

"I'm sorry, man. I wish-"

"It's alright." Lore interrupted. "That was years back. Just moving from the city was a big change."

"Yeah..." They stood in their silence.

"Oh, I came to see if you were going to come to the Flower Dance."

"Um. I dunno. I'm kinda busy-" 

"There's free food."

"...okay, I'll go." 

Clint laughed, "Knew that would get you! Anyway, it's tomorrow, people start arriving at like nine, but it goes on all day. I'll meet you here around nine, and I can take you there." 

Lore nodded. "Alright, cool." He hesitated. "It doesn't have a dress code, right?"

"Oh, no," Lore sighed in relief, "Only if you participate in the dance do you have to wear a special costume."

"Good. Good. Guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye!" Clint said, waving and letting himself out. 

Lore turned back to his cleaning, when he heard an "Oh!" and Clint rushing back in. 

"I forgot!" He said, letting the screen door slam shut, reaching into his pocket and unfolding some graphing paper. "These are instructions for building a furnace. With this, you can smelt metal ore into ingots."

Lore took it and looked at the paper, perplexed. "Why can't I just give them to you, and you can smelt them yourself?" 

"Because, you will want those ingots yourself, when-" he flipped the first page over, "You want to make a recycling machine of your own."

Lore grinned.

Finally, a way to make use of all of his trash. 


	10. Chapter 10

After balling up, Lore decided it was time to check out the old, abandoned mines.

Well, condemned. Someone owned it, she was sure.

There was no unclaimed land in the country. If this area- with a literal mountain of  _gold_ under their sneaks- was unclaimed, she'd swallow her sword.

Nevertheless, the land was unoccupied by humans (other than the gruff-looking ones that were very probably not allowed to be there, either), so Lore was set and determined to take advantage of the free ore. As long as the operation were small enough, no authority would notice. Just be careful about selling too much at the same time to the same vendor. Or get Clint to launder it for her.

Ah, what were they kidding. There was probably nothing down there but rocks and a labyrinth of emptied ore veins, allowed to go to disrepair because there was nothing left down there worth taking.

Their curiosity got the better of them, though. Their curiosity and their _very_ tiny bank balance.

They crept through the woods early that morning, not wanting to be spotted by the very affectionate carpenter- who, she was ninety percent sure- was trying to set them up with her recluse of a son, Sebastian.

Moms, though.

The trail was muddy as all hell. The spring rains hadn't let up for days prior. It was nice at the time (they could actually sleep at night with the sounds of rain pouring down without a need of a several shot nightcap), but at the moment, it was a pain in the keister. She had to walk gingerly at the sides of the trail, still getting her sneakers stuck in the mud a few times, no matter how careful they walked.

Like seriously. It was a _mountain_. Water was supposed to run _down_ mountains.

But it did highlight the fact they still had to buy some decent shoes. These ones had taken a beating, _and_ they weren't waterproof, which was another constant annoyance in her life.

But the constant annoyances had to take a backseat to the constant emergencies. It's just how life was.

The cave entrance looked dark and spooky in the serene orange glow of the morning sunrise. Maybe because it was just so out of place in the pleasant woodlands, with a busy little creek running through it, birds singing their hearts out.

They stepped up to it and paused. The stillness within was deafening. It wasn't right. They were nuts, they shouldn't even _be_ here. Death awaited within. Turn back. Abandon hope, all ye who enter.

A sudden shuffling sound echoed from within, Lore backpedalling into a tree.

"Ho there, friend!" A voice shouted from within. A light appeared from the floor.

"I didn't mean to startle ya!" One of those old mountain guys exited the cave. "I'm not used to seeing others coming into the mines."

"...Hi." Lore said, keenly aware the guy was armed to the teeth. Hell, even his teeth had a hidden weapon compartment. Who knew with these prepper nuts?

"I apologize." He offered his hand, thick with calluses and stained from years of dirty work, "My name is Marlon Lutalo: adventurer."

Lore took it, nervous, "Lore Stardew." They paused, then added, "I'm unemployed."

Shaking his hand was like shaking a trained bear's paw. Like, this thing has enough power to crack my hand clean off, but it's not for some reason.

"You don't need an employer to have a profession!" Marlon said, contemplating a moment, before unclipping his belt.

"Hold up-"

"Don't get the wrong idea!" He assured her, slipping his sheathe off his belt before redoing it. He flipped it gracefully so the handle was towards her, and said, "This is an old sword; I found a better one down below today. I'd like you to have it."

Lore took the proffered weapon without thinking, then a beat later processed what she'd heard, heart snapping. "Wait, there's actually useful stuff down there?"

Marlon laughed. "Of course there is, young adventurer! You'll always find something if you look close enough."

And later that night, when they returned home, sweaty and covered in dirt and other unnameable materials, Lore passed out into their bed without washing, arms burning from swinging a sword and a pickax in equal amounts, they had not returned empty-handed. There was, strangely, something very precious down in that dark and abandoned mine.

Hope.


	11. Chapter 10 (Explicit warning)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content here, chapter summary at the bottom of you'd like to skip the gory details.

It was just another one of those days. The sun was burning hotter and longer, and it still was impossible for her to sleep at night. The bags under her eyes had gotten deep, steepling her face with stress wrinkles. And every night that she couldn't sleep, she drank.

How else was one supposed to sleep when could no longer achieve orgasm? Prescriptions be damned, if she didn't feel better about existence with them, she'd definitely have chosen cumming over them.

But for now, she wandered the forest, kinda drunk, kinda lost, kinda just luxuriating in the cool dew of the grass, the soft dirt under her feet, the fish that nibbled at her toes when she stuck her feet in the creek. It was quite nice. She could always just follow the beach or the riverbank back to civilization, if needed, but she didn't really need to. She could see the old abandoned tower over the treetops, illuminated ever so slightly by the waxing moon, and knew that was to the south west of the town. Even if she passed out out here, she'd still be able to find her way back in the morning. With the hot summer already falling on them, there'd be no way she'd die of exposure before then.

A crackling in the underbrush alerted her to company. At first, she suspected squirrels, or possums, some other lively animal searching for grub, but when it stopped suddenly by her, she looked and instead found a dude standing there.

Probably not there to murder her, as he was looking just as confused as herself in the light of his- oh, he had a flashlight, what a good idea.

"Uh, hey." He said.

She recognized his voice, from somewhere, but couldn't place it? Perhaps an old hook-up from the city? But wait, why would an old hook-up be in the Pelican Town forest at this time of night?

She tried not to sway as she answered, "Evenin'."

He fidgeted, and her eyes were drawn to a bottle tucked under his arm. "What, um..."

She waited, or rather, didn't notice if time had passed. She had apparently drawn her bare feet from the creek and dried them on the grass before he made more words. "What are you doing out here so late?" He asked, with some difficulty.

The realization snapped into place in her mind then. _He couldn't sleep either._  

She stood with some effort and tottered toward him. "My name's Lore." She said, holding out her hand. 

"Yeah, I know. You're at the bar all the time."

"Ah. And you are?" She asked, still holding out her hand, intent on making his country-boy tendencies work in her favor. 

And they did, finally, when he took her hand and said, "Shane."

"Marnie's son?" She asked, confused, collapsing to the ground, legs wobbly as a baby deer, her own bottle of solice slipping from under her blanket/cloak.

"What? No, not her son. Just her nephew." There was some anger there, but what, she couldn't decide, struggling to her feet again. He still had her hand, and helped her up.

"Where you going?" She asked, after having found her vodka with her toe. 

"Um, there's, uh, deck? Out the side of one of these ponds out here." 

"Oh, I guess I'll let you...go, then." She wasn't going to ignore him more, no way, not after he  _looked so handsome and so pretty at her, she could get used to that gaze that focused only on her._

"...You can come." He said, and for a moment, her heart skipped. It's what she wanted for _months_ , just a simple orgasm. But then the other definition of that word floated to the forefront, and she sighed. 

"Cool." She said, stumbling to pick up her vodka. "Show me?"

"Yeah. Don't trip." He advised, the flashlight swinging the way, a guiding beacon illuminating a path in the once dark and samesame undergrowth of the woods. 

"I'm not!" She protested, tripping as she said it. She quickly picked herself back up before he could point the flashlight back at her, and she stared defiantly, unscrewing her bottle and taking a swig. 

"Yeah, okay." He said, sarcasm dripping as he motioned her to walk beside him, "Come on, be careful. There's a bunch of roots and shit on the trail." He pointed out helpfully, as they began their trek again. 

"Slackers." She murmured, focusing heavily on where each step was placed. She ended up gripping the sleeve of his sweater, although she couldn't remember how long she'd been holding onto him.

"What?" He asked.

"Someone's supposed to clear it out, yeah?" 

"What? No."

"The city parks used to be cleared out." 

"Yeah, but that's the city, this is fucking nowheresville." 

"Hm." She thought, but anything she had to say died as they came to the pond. Frogs croaked, the moon reflected on the shimmery waver of water, an old rickety wooden deck extending out. 

He stepped on it confidently, but she gently placed weight on each step, shivering. 

"The hell are you doing back there?" He asked, already somehow seated on the end of the deck, seeming to float in a cloud of light. His flashlight had transformed into a torch. "Scared?" 

"This fucker's like ancient, man." She answered, delicately sitting by his side, holding herself up by a pole that stuck up out of the water. It supported the deck, and there was definitely a word for it, but all she could think to call it at the moment was  _ballast_ , although that most certainly was not right. 

"No, it isn't. My old man and me built it when I was a kid." He said, before drinking.

"Yeah?" She said, looking at the wood in a fascinating new light, petting it with awe. "I always wanted to learn how to make things like this, but no landlord would have allowed power tools running in the building." 

"Mm." He agreed.

He spoke a little like a Zuzan, so she asked, "You live in the city long?" 

He looked a little taken aback, but nodded. "Yeah. Most my life, actually. I only moved out here about a year ago because Marnie had extra bedrooms and wouldn't charge rent." 

She whistled appreciatively, "Damn. Good deal."

"Pfft. It's only because she felt sorry for me and Jas." 

"You her dad?" Lore asked. 

"Oh, no no, godfather." Shane paused and sighed, "I never wanted a kid, but her parents were both conscripted, and I wasn't, because of my bum knee."

She paused, too. 

"Can I try that?" She asked, pointing at his bottle. He offered it up, and she switched with him. He looked at the label of hers while she took a drink from his. 

"Blech!" She decided, putting it down behind them, "Icky." 

"What are you, ten?" He asked, finally taking a drink from her bottle. She felt a pang in her nether regions, something about his neck swallowing in the low light as intoxicating as any alcohol. 

"That's not bad." He said, wincing and putting her bottle down. "Kinda tasteless, though."

"That's what I like about it." She said, eating his form with her gaze.  _Nice. Nice, nice, nice, nice, nice._

"Pfft, amateur." He said. He glanced over, finally taking notice of her staring. "What?" 

"You're hot." She said. "I want to lick you." 

"What!?" He asked, again. She scooted over to him, until their hips were pressed together. She held his face and licked a stripe up his beautiful thick throat. Salty, a little bitter, but the form under her tongue was  _delicious._ She couldn't help but purr and go in for a better taste. 

He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing with the motion, as she placed open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

"Nice." She managed to pant out between kisses, "Nice." 

He shivered, and turned his face towards her, hesitantly, sizing her up with his eyes, the obvious air of uncertainty within. 

She raised her head to meet his mouth. Warm, and wet, and solid, and wonderful. Teeth and lips and tongue swirling, exciting her, that desire building in her core. 

They broke apart, eyeing each other.

He was finally getting into it, uncertainty melting away and cupping her head, drawing her back in for another. She moaned, humming vibrations into his mouth, as she gripped his leg through his shorts. 

Time skipped, and she was on her back on the deck, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, legs around his hips, desperately grinding into him for some relief from the tension within her. 

He held himself up with both arms, caged around her head, desperately grinding back, panting and groaning into her mouth with each hot and sloppy kiss.

She realized there were better ways to do this, and let go of his shoulders to work at his zipper. 

He pulled away, unsure again. "Hey, what...?"

She pulled his cock out, throbbing hard and solid in her hands. 

"Nice." She whispered into his ear. 

"Are you-" He groaned, pushing himself to his knees so he could slip her pajama pants and underwear down. The wood was scratchy and cold against her bare backside, but she was burning with every touch he blessed her with. 

She struggled with her pants for a minute, before giving up, realizing her fine motor skills were fucked from drinking. She rolled over under him and propped herself up on hands and knees. 

He fumbled a moment, but was able to find the right spot eventually. He pressed himself onto her, propped up on one hand while the other snaked around to her front, stroking ineptly and wonderfully.

He stroked inside of her with one finger, groaning into her ear, "Shit, you are so wet." 

"Fuck me." She insisted, his dick pressed into the crack of her ass. She ground back to make her point, and he groaned again.

"Are you for real?" He asked, cocking his hips back and lining his dick up with her entrance. 

This was one of the best parts, in her humble opinion. That lovely stretch, the thickness entering, soft but hard as anything, his dickhead popping through first, that first thrilling fill of heat and pressure. It'll only get looser, sloppier from here, so that tightness was something she cherished. She keened, pleased.

He pulled her hips in close, rocking easily, also basking in that same heat.

"Fuuuck," he groaned, pushing her shoulders down, her face on the rough wood, pressing deeper into her, kissing her with some difficulty.

She pulled one of his big hands around to the front of her neck, catching his eye, squeezing lightly over his hand to demonstrate what she wanted, what she _needed._

"Hell yeah-" He crooned appreciatively, squeezing her throat easy, before gripping her hips with his other arm and began to pull out. 

"Hah- nnn!" She groaned as he pounded back into her. His grip around her neck tightened, her breaths coming shallower, but still panting encouragement, "Fuck- yes- more-" 

"God, you are- haaa-" He panted heavily, setting a punishing pace, "Fuck- feel so good- fuck yes-" 

Inside, she got closer and closer to release, a hope for the tension to subside, for even one night, that pressure building and building. She moaned, desperate, dragging one hand down to where they connected, fingers stroking his dick, wet with her fluids, eliciting a particularly pleased noise from him, before she began rubbing hard at her clit.

"Yeees, baby, yeah-" He panted hotly into her ear, "Make yourself come on my dick, I wanna feel you come-"

"You feel so good- ah!" She whispered in between gasps, "So good, so nice, oh god, shit, I'm going to come, don't stop, please, fuck-!" 

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her sight blacked out, the tension finally snapping out, throbbing into the night, throbbing around him, her muscles spasming with relief, squealing into his mouth, as he pumped inside of her faster. 

He swore, and pulled out, a hot liquid squirting onto her backside. 

"Mmm, niiice," she mumbled, already falling asleep, finally sated for the night. 

☆☆☆

She woke up on the grassy clearing near the pond, unsure of how she got there. She felt like she'd had the greatest sex dream of all time last night, then passed out in the woods.

Or was it real? 

She was wet, but a sex dream could do that, easy. Her pants were in place, and her vodka bottle was beside her. There wasn't any indication that anyone else had been out there. 

Yeah, it was probably just her lonely alky mind making up a one-night stand in the woods. Besides, what were the chances she'd meet someone else out here in the woods  _that_ late at night? 

But she was feeling  _good_ and  _sexy_ , and that didn't happen very often anymore, so when she entered the bar again the next night to buy more vodka from a disapproving Gus, she threw the drunk at the end a flirty smile. 

And if that day was the day he _finally_ returned her smile, well, that could just be a coincidence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Our intrepid main character gets drunk and wanders into the town drunk, where they make sweet love. Lore wakes up not entirely sure if it were real or a dream.


	12. Chapter 12

She sat on the steps of her porch, sharpening her axe, her bare feet catching on cracks in the old, unsanded wood. The sun, high in the sky, beat down in a way that reminded her of her work parking lot, filled with cars, reflecting dazzling beads of light and exuding heatwaves like an oasis of metal. Cicada buzzing filled the air, a natural white noise machine.

 

"Lori?" Her grandfather said softly from the porch behind her, causing her to pause, "I think you need help."

 

She ducked her head and grated the sharpener on the axe, carefully trying to do it evenly like the instructional video said. "I need a lot of help, granpa. I'm not perfect."

 

She heard him sigh, then, "You know what I mean, stardust." 

 

She hesitated, then nodded. "I gotta stop drinking."

 

They sat in companionable silence for a time, as Lore checked the sharpness of the axe against her thumb.

 

She inhaled deeply, and said in a rush, "I just- I just don't know how, I guess? I've tried to quit a hundred times, and it's like I can't keep myself from getting more 'just in case,' but that 'just in case' is every goddamned day, and I miss the city and dad and my stupid little apartment and my friends and my, my-" 

 

The axe and sharpener clattered onto the steps as she buried her face in her hands. 

 

"Why couldn't he love me?" She sobbed, "Am I that unlovable? What the hell's wrong with me?" 

 

A warm presence enveloped her, gentle as a sun. 

 

"You are the cosmos, dear." Granpa said, placing a faint kiss onto the top of her head. "You are worthy of more love than the universe has to offer. If one insect can't see that, it isn't your fault." 

 

"He's not a-" She spun, ready to defend her ex, but finding herself alone on the porch. 

 

Oh, right. He was dead. 

 

_A dream? Or hallucination? Did I remember to take my meds today?_

 

"Hey, are you okay?" A girl with long purple hair asked. 

 

Lore jumped up, startled by the girl's sudden appearance by her side, wiping frantically at her damp eyes. "Where the fuck did you come from!?" 

 

"The trees?" The girl said, indicating the thick growth of trees that Lore still hemmed and hawed over taking down. She eyed the axe, trying to remember where she'd found the thing. In the old barn, maybe? But wouldn't she have remembered going into that old place? The thing looked really unstable, needed a lot of work. Then again, that old-timey craftsmanship was nothing to sniff at-

 

"I mean, there's a path up that way," the girl babbled on, reminding Lore she wasn't alone, "that leads up the mountain to the train station." 

 

Lore was going to respond, something along the lines of 'there's a shortcut that way? Ah, shit, I've been lugging my laundry up the LONG WAY!?,' but then was interrupted by a coughing fit into the crook of her elbow, still sick from weeks ago, suffering from a cold she couldn't shake. She moved her arm back down, but the girl's wide-eyed stare made her glance down, wondering if her fly was open or something. But no, the elbow she'd just coughed into was covered with blood, a dark clot among the bright red spatters.

 

"Ah shit." Lore said conversationally, wiping it off onto the hem of her t-shirt. It was black, so it wouldn't show up. 

 

"Yo, that ain't normal." The girl said, "Do you want me to walk you to Harvey's? I'm going that way anyhow." 

 

Lore was about to turn down her offer, but the concern on her face gave her pause. Maybe coughing up blood _was_ something to be seriously concerned about. 

 

Lore sighed, turning inside her house. "Yeah, okay. Just let me get my shoes."

 

"I'm Abby." The girl said as they began their trek, sticking her hand out. 

 

Lore backed up, hands up, "Probably a bad idea. I'm sick, remember?" 

 

"Oh god, right!" Abby said, snatching her hand back, "You probably have some wasting disease or something, like bleeding from your eyes or whatever."

 

"Thank you for that visual." Lore muttered. 

 

"No problem!" Abby beamed, "What's your name?" 

 

"Lore." Lore said. 

 

"Lore?" Abby cocked her head, her pretty soft curls catching the sunlight. Now that Lore had a chance to look at her, she was adorably short and plump, with high cheekbones and eyebrows, bright, animated eyes, and full lips. 

 

_Ye gods, she's hot!_ Lore thought, blushing.

 

"What kind of name is 'Lore?'" 

 

"Oh, it's, erm, short for... Lorelei." Lore said, keeping her eyes down. 

 

"Oh, pretty! Well, Lore," Abby said, "it's nice to finally meet you. You've been here- what?- a month? And we haven't met yet, that's crazy!" 

 

"Eh, not really. I don't get out much these days." 

 

"Mmm, I know what you mean. You remind me of my friend, Sebastian; he doesn't slither from his basement dwelling much except to smoke, or come to band practice."

 

Lore hummed in acknowledgement, but otherwise said nothing. It wasn't that unusual to keep to yourself, now was it? Well, maybe it was for country people, but in the city-

 

"Do you play any instruments?" Abby asked.

 

"What?" Lore said, breaking from her thoughts, "Oh, yeah. Well, I did. I don't anymore."

 

"Well, what _did_ you play?"

 

"My granma was a music teacher, so I learned a little bit of a lot of them. Harp, flute, cello, guitar, you know." She glanced up to Abby, who looked straight gobsmacked. Lore carried on quickly, "Once you get how to make sounds with them, it's just a lot of practice and muscle memory, it's nothing special!"

 

"Nothing _special!?_ Oh my _god,_ you're a super hero!" Abby said, getting shrill. She grabbed onto Lore's arm, close enough to get a whiff of incense. "You gotta come to band practice! We could totally use someone like you!" 

 

Once again, Lore was about to decline, but stopped. Thinking on it, wouldn't practicing an instrument again be one of the best things to keep her mind off of alcohol? She couldn't be drinking at band practice, either. 

 

Then again, she didn't know these people. 

 

Then again again, the community was small. Everyone knows everyone here, and she'd have to integrate into society somehow. 

 

"I wasn't very good at playing. Just because I knew how to didn't mean I became some sort of prodigy." Lore hedged.

 

Abby giggled, "Me neither!"

 

Lore blew out a shaky breath, then said, "Sure." 

 

Abby whooped in delight. "I can't wait! When you're done getting your Ebola checked out, come see me next door at the shop, and then we can go to Sam's place."

 

She flounced off, leaving Lore at the door of the clinic, feeling like she had just gotten caught up in a pretty little tornado.

 


	13. Chapter 13

"So, I was thinking-" Sam said, fiddling around with his guitar amp, "it could go something like this." He stood, and played a quick series of notes, just a pretty basic rise and fall. 

"Mm..." Sebastian hummed, mimicking the series on the keyboard, testing it out. He had his pen in his mouth, chewing to stave off the craving for a smoke. He played with the pace, how long a note lingered, tried it slower. 

"Maybe like as a bass line?" He suggested. 

"Dude, c'mon! Work with me here!" Sam whined, melodramatic as always, wiping his hands on his shorts. 

They'd had this discussion before. They didn't have a bass player, but Sebastian could mock-up the progression on his keyboard and just layer it over the rest of the song. Sam balked, of course, wanted to do things "The Right Way," whatever that meant to a  _keyboard player_.

Sebastian flopped back onto Sam's bed, sweating his ass off. "Ugh, it's too hot to think."

"Knock, knock!" Abby chirped, bursting into the house without actually stopping to knock. "Ya'll are never going to believe this!" She squealed, a noise that could make every dog in the Valley come a-running. 

"How are you happy when it's this hot out?" He grumbled, sitting up so Sam's tiny window fan hit him again. Then he heard the door close. But Abby was in here, so who-

A slouchy, brown-haired guy meekly walked in Sam's room, sticking close to the door. He was dressed like a normal person- jeans and plain black tank- except he wore a medical face mask over his nose and mouth. 

"Friends, this here could possibly be member number four of our fantastic band!" Abby clapped the dude on the shoulder, and Sebastian couldn't help the little twinge that ran through him. He and Abby had on-again'd, off-again'd in high school, together for a couple weeks before she sank her clutches into another dude (or chick, she was flexible), but it still didn't stop the rejection from hurting. He just got more used to it over time.

Now that they were out of high school, Abby took classes online through the local college, and he'd been working like a beast to save up enough to leave this hellhole. They didn't exactly hang out for very long, but he'd thought that, maybe, they might finally put the past behind them. Start from fresh, as adults. 

But she touched this dude with such ease, and was talking him up- well, whatever. She can do what she wanted. 

She wasn't his anymore.

"Well, Lore," Sam said-  _wait, this guy's name is LORE?-_  offering up his guitar, "Play me something." 

Lore eyed it warily. "Do I have to?" He asked, directing the question at Abby. 

"C'mon!" Abby purred, "You'll do good, I know you will." 

Lore rolled his eyes, but took the offending instrument. He fiddled with the strap and did some minor tuning to it, as Sam and Abby joined Sebastian on the bed. 

Lore looked up, realizing that he had an  _audience_ , and quickly looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. 

"What's with the mask, though?" Sebastian asked.

"Oi!" Abby whiffed him in the back of his head, fucking up his hair, "Weren't you listening to me? I said Lore's got Ebola." 

"Fucking hell, what!?" He started, but Abby was laughing. 

"She's pulling your leg, man." Sam took pity on his spacey friend, "Harvey said it was probably just a combo of dehydration and a cough." 

"Still don't want ya'll to get sick 'cause of me." Lore mumbled, his fingers (bitten nails with chipped  _pink_ polish) looking as if he were running through paces without playing. Maybe this guy wouldn't be half-bad after all. Though they would have to talk about the band's appearance.

Once they picked a genre.

"Play already!" Abby shouted. 

Lore took a deep breath and raised the guitar. 

All three of them groaned in despair as 'Wonderwall''s first chords popped out. Sebastian cast his eyes heavenward with a prayer to Yoba as Sam collapsed beside him.

"Alright, I ain't _that_ bad!" Lore argued at their show of misery, but Abby was giggling and clapping. 

"It's so overplayed." Sebastian said.

"It's _literally_ a meme." Sam added. "But, I mean, that's fine. We can work with 'Wonderwall' levels of newbie."

"I only started playing drums a few weeks ago." Abby said. 

"So, we're all agreed? New member?" Sam looked to both Abby and Sebastian with an eyebrow raised. Abby said yes, but Sebastian... he could only shrug, mutter "sure." He inspected the dude, and the guy withered under his gaze. When the dude could actually meet his eyes, his blue eyes seemed to sparkle with... something. Intriguing. 

Sebastian could also accept that, from one guy to another, he had really nice hips. 

"Well, it's settled, then" Sam said, hopping off the bed, "Congratulations, you've been accepted into the band!" They all left the bed and spread out to their instruments, getting ready for practice. Sam took his guitar back, and offered his bass guitar to Lore. 

"Uh, cool? Th-thanks." Lore stuttered, not seeming to believe it was that easy. "So, um... what's the band's name?" 

Silence fell as the original three bandmates stopped what they were doing and stared at each other. 

"Umm." Sam hedged after a moment, scratching his neck.

"We don't have one, yet." Sebastian said.

"Ah." Lore said. Waited a beat, then asked, "What kind of music do you play?" 

"Ahh." Sam helpfully didn't answer. 

"We don't know, really." Abby said, mindlessly twirling a drum stick. 

"Uh huh." Lore said. "So uh?" Everyone else tensed, afraid of the next question, "When were you thinking about getting on that?" 

"Dunno." Sebastian said, glancing at Sam. It was _his_ idea to make a band in the first place, he thought it was Sam's decision. 

"Well, I mean," Sam fiddled with his guitar straps, "I have a-a couple of ideas for band names, b-but I didn't want to like, presume, you know?"

"Well, shoot!" Abby said.

"Huh?" Sam asked.

"What were you thinking?" Sebastian asked. 

"Oh!" Sam said, getting more and more jittery, "Well, I don't even know the genre and that should really match with the name and like, I don't want to like, force you guys into a band with a bad name-"

"Oh my fucking god, out with it already!" Lore said, stepping towards Sam menacingly.

"Okay! Okay!" Sam said, raising his hands to calm the newbie, "So, Penny was telling me about this one show about universes or whatever that she liked, and the host had said something about, 'it made sense that ancient people worshipped the sun and stars, because we are their children," and it kind of means that everything that exists on the planet was made from stars exploding or something, and I really liked that idea, so I was thinking 'Stardust?'"

"Yoba, was that so hard?" Sebastian asked.

"Yeah, that's cool. Good name." Abby said. 

"Wait, really?" Sam asked, stunned at her apparent nonchalance.

"Yeah, dude, it's a great name." Sebastian said. 

"Really?" Sam's face lit up. 

He turned to Lore, "Hey, dude, what do you-" 

Lore looked like he'd seen a ghost, the part of his face that they could see drained. 

"Yeah... good..." He finally croaked out. 

"You okay, man?" Sebastian asked. "You're looking a little-" He indicated his face. 

"Yeah... I'm good." Lore swallowed, then gently took the bass off. "Actually, no, I'm feeling like shit. Raincheck, yeah?" 

"Oh, yeah, man, no problem." Sam said, taking the bass, "Get better, next practice is on Tuesday at six, you good with that?" 

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll be here." He went for the door, turning at the last minute, "Nice meeting ya'll." He vanished, front door clicking closed softly. 

"Abby, that guy's kinda weird." Sam noted. 

"Yeah, but he owns that run-down farm outside of town. Those woods are huge!" Abby said. 

"Seb, what do you think?" Sam asked. 

Sebastian had been watching Lore out Sam's window, as the guy fell to his knees in the grass across the street and pulled off his face mask, like he was desperate for air, or going to hurl.

God, he was a pretty man. Even in some distress.  

"Hm?" 

"Ahh, you're hopeless!" Sam said, turning his attention back to his instrument. "C'mon, let's jam!"


	14. Chapter 14

Back in the city, Lore had loved to seek refuge from the hot metal and concrete in the public pool. Filled to the brim with loud, rowdy people as it was, the water was one of the few pleasures she had. Floating weightless in a cool void, she almost felt like she could fall asleep in it. 

So it was a damned shame that- despite living in Pelican Town for months- she still hadn't gotten into the water. An actual _ocean_ , right on her doorstep, and she hadn't gone in!

It might be a bit dangerous, she understood what a "rip-tide" was, but eh. She'd just stay kind of close to land. 

She had slept only a few hours last night, passing out around midnight, but waking back up at three, and was unable to fall back asleep. So, to work out thoses frustrations, she packed a towel and headed out to the beach during that liminal twilight time where everything was still and crisp and dim.

The city never had a calm time. Someone was always awake and making noise. 

The robins started belting out their morning songs in earnest as she made her way through town, taking the time to really experience and take pleasure in the walk. The sun hadn't properly risen yet, just a faint lightening to the night. The air- oppressively hot during the day- was warm, but had that chill from the night. Salty notes in the air became stronger as she got closer to the ocean, mingling with some lilac bushes by someone's house. The cobblestones under her flip-flops made satisfying "clop-clop" sounds, a little hollow, somewhat like a horse. She could hear the waves lapping against the shore. 

Beautiful.

Maybe this was what she needed to sleep? Some good relaxing exercise and the lullaby of the waves. 

If she was able to sleep after this, she'd never look at a drink again. She'd camp on the beach all-year round. 

She wiggled out of her flip-flops and stuck her feet in the sand, loving the cold. She threw her junk down and stripped to her bathing suit. It was exciting, just the idea of being alone and swimming at the same time. 

She grinned, and ran towards the water, seafoam and seaweed glistening on the shoreline.

Hitting it, she yipped. Cold! Very cold! She pressed on despite the full-bodied shudders, knowing that this was going to be the worst part of it. 

When it got deep enough, she took a final deep breath and dove under. 

_Wonderful._

It felt like a home-coming. 

 _I belong here!_ Her every sense screamed. 

She surfaced, laughing, before going under and paddling farther out.

It would be impossible to describe later, that feeling of belonging, of rightness, but if pressed, she would say it was like being a puzzle piece that had been smushed into the wrong puzzle, only to later be correctly placed in your own puzzle. Everything fit. The waves pushed and pulled at her, and she played with the give and take of the tides. She spun underwater, happy as a spring trout. 

It was with a lot of resistance that she finally left the water, exhausted and freezing, but knew she'd be back again as soon as she could. The sun was just beginning to peek orange rays over the water as she toweled off. 

"Good morning, Lore!" A voice called out, startling her. She shrieked, dropping her towel and searching for the owner of the voice. Ye gods, she was getting alarmed by everything these days. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." A man with long hair said, standing from where he had kind of been hidden by the tree line. 

Yikes, he was beautiful, dressed in only swim trunks, showing off an uncomfortably well-toned chest and arms. 

"Have you finally come to take me up on my offer?" He asked, coming to stand by her, a slight smile playig over his lips, his eyes half-lidded.

_He knows me. We've had a conversation before. What offer?_

Ah, well. Honesty is the best policy, right?

"I'm sorry, I don't remember your name." Lore decided to start with that.

"My name is Elliott, my lady." He said with a flourish and a bow. "I do not blame you for not remembering much, Leah and you had gotten into a drinking contest that night." 

_Fuck, who's Leah!?_

"Yeah?" Lore asked carefully, "How'd um, that go?"

Elliott laughed. "It was no contest, luv! Leah may be persistent, but she is half your size and usually only drinks wine." 

Lore grinned. Couldn't remember it, but felt proud of the win all the same. 

"Then you two snuck into the back room and-" Elliott shrugged, "I took that as my cue to leave." 

_Shit, shit, shit!_

Lore laughed, uneasily. Did she steal his girlfriend? And then not remember _anything_ about it!?

"But, Leah's always been a bit of a free spirit." Elliott went on. "Nevertheless, were you going to swim with me this morning?" 

It finally clicked into place, the offer he had mentioned was going for an early morning swim with him. 

"Mm, sorry, but I'll have to decline today." She smiled at the water, "I've already tired myself out." 

"Some other day, then?" He looked hopeful, like maybe no one went swimming with him very much. 

"Tomorrow?" Lore asked. 

Elliott beamed. "Yes, of course!" 

"I'll see you then!" Lore said, picking up her towel and flip-flops and waving goodbye. 

Well, she couldn't remember this Leah girl at all, and she couldn't remember what they did, but Elliott seemed nice enough. It was such a disparity, though, that posh accent coming out of a surfer bro body. 

Arriving home, Lore fell on top of her covers and passed into a deep sleep. 


End file.
